The Token
by Sk8erGurl24
Summary: When two outlaws come to Los Angeles looking for a gem with mystical powers, it's up to Buffy, Angel, and the AI team to take them down. Third book in my Gealach Gorm series! B/A
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Token

**Author:** Jude (Sk8erGurl24)

**Disclaimer: **Does it look like I own anything? No? Good. 'Cause I don't... The Santiago Mines are not real mines, I made them up because I wanted mines, couldn't find much on Google, and like the name Santiago...

**Summary: **When two outlaws come to town looking for a mystical gem with special powers, it's up to Buffy, Angel, and the rest of the gang to stop them. Third book in my Gealach Gorm series! BA, WO, XA

**Note: **Woo! I got loads of positive feedback on the second book, When the Sun Falls! Actually, I got _more_ feedback than I've ever gotten on _any_story. Thanks guys! You really rock. Anyway, this is the third book and I have some worries (I know I said that on the second book, but these are different). I've found this thing called 'The Curse of the Three'. Basically, the third book/movie of everything sucks. X-Men 3 was awful (my opinion), Spider-Man 3 was awful (my opinion), Buffy Season 3 wasn't _as good_as the first two (my opinion), the third Twilight book (no, I'm not a fan, but was at one point and time) was awful (my opinion), Rocky 3 wasn't as good as the first two (my mom's opinion). Do you see where I'm going? Silly, I know. But anyway. Cross your fingers and hope it's good. On with the story!

* * * * * *

Buffy Summers stood outside the quaint little office with its blinds pulled shut around ten in the evening and glanced down at the post-it note again, making sure she had the right address. Her boyfriend, Angel, had been to Sunnydale many times, but this was the first time she'd ever been to see him. If the tiny 'Angel Investigations' on the wooden door was any indication, she was in the right place. She knocked on the door and waited. A moment later, the door was pulled open by Doyle, one of Angel associates and closest friends.

"Don'tcha know we're closed?" He asked before realizing who it was. "Oh, Buffy. Come in."

"Hi, Doyle. How've you been?" she asked politely.

"Surprisingly vision free. How 'bout yourself?"

"Can't complain," she said. "Hey, Cordy."

Without glancing up from the papers she had sprawled across her desk, Cordelia said, "Hi, Buffy. Angel's down in the Batcave."

Upon noticing that Buffy wasn't moving, she looked up. "Oh, that's right! You've never been here before. Silly me. Well, this is my office, main center of paper work, and Angel's office is through there," she said, pointing to a closed door.

"What about Doyle? Doesn't he have an office?" Buffy asked.

"Doyle's vision guy. He doesn't need an office," she held up a hand to silence any protests from Doyle and ushered Buffy over to a flight of stairs beside a small lift. "And this is how you get down to Angel's apartment. He's probably still sleeping since the sun just went down, but you can go wake him up. He won't get grouchy with you."

"Thanks for the, um, grand tour. I'll see you later," Buffy said before descending down the stairs as quietly as possible.

Cordelia turned to Doyle and sighed. "We won't be seeing them for the rest of the night."

"That bad?" he asked.

"That bad."

His apartment was nice, larger than the one they shared in Sunnydale, but not exactly large. She walked through slowly, examining this and that, before finally she came to Angel's bedroom. She didn't knock, that would have given her away, instead she quietly pushed the door open. She froze with her hand on the knob and took in the sight in front of her. Angel was standing with his back to her and was looking through his bureau, in just a pair of black pants. Her eyes traced the outlines of his tattoo and she smiled. For a vampire with super senses, he was definately behind in being aware of someone watching him.

Finally, she stepped silently into the room, shut the door behind her, and leaned on it with both hands still grasping the knob behind her. She smiled in satisfaction when he visibly jumped and quickly spun around.

"Buffy. What are you doing here?"

"Hi to you, too."

"Sorry," he said, and stood before her, both arms out stretched with his hands placed on the door on either side of her head. "You surprised me."

"Mmm. That's what I was going for." She smirked mischievously as he bent his head down to hers.

"You succeeded," he murmured just before his lips claimed hers.

Buffy's hands left the doorknob and traveled up to tangle themselves in his thick brown hair. His arms looped around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Buffy moaned softly against his mouth and went up on tip toe. When they finally broke apart after a very long minute, she was panting and they were both grinning.

"I ask again, why are you here? Not that I'm not glad to see you--"

"Obviously," she said.

"Obviously, but I was coming to Sunnydale tomorrow."

"Like I said, I wanted to surprise you. And I wanted to see the base of operations."

"Oh. Okay."

"I like your office, by the way. Cordelia played welcoming committee, gave me the whole tour. But of course, I much prefer your form of welcoming," Buffy said and pressed her kiss-swollen lips together.

Angel smiled and began trying to straighten his bed and things on his bedside table.

"Don't," she said. "I'm not some unwelcome house guest - I hope - you don't have to clean up for me."

"You're not an unwelcome house guest, Buffy," He told her and sat down on his bed.

"Good." She plopped down beside him.

"How's everything going with you and your mom?"

She groaned. "The other day, I suddenly realized I forgot to get my hairdryer, you know, the new one I bought? Yeah, well I had to wait until nightfall so I could sneak back in, grab it, and sneak out without waking her. Because I just _knew_ she'd blow up at me again. Can you believe it?"

He placed his hand over hers where it rested on her thigh. "It'll get better, you'll see."

She carefully considered this for a moment, then said, "And if it doesn't?"

"It will."

"Yeah," she snorted. "Right."

They sat there in comfortable silence, until Angel looked down at her. "Shower?"

An hour (or two) later, Buffy sat on Angel's large bed in one of Angel's white tee-shirts, with dripping wet hair. Angel came into the room in just a pair of grey sweatpants and lounged beside her. He couldn't help the insane joy that flooded through him at the sight of her in his shirt. He'd seen her like this before, but it never never ceased to amaze him. He lazily ran a finger up her smooth leg, causing her to smile.

She moved slightly so he was laying on his back and she was beside him, her head on his chest and her legs twined with his in a loving, yet sensual, gesture. Buffy traced patterns on his bare chest with her finger tips. She loved her power over him, and his over her.

Angel allowed his eyes to shut as he fell under the spell she was weaving. Nobody else had ever touched him like that before. Caring and sensitive, hesitant, yet bold at the same time. She was still so innocent, despite the horrors she'd seen. Never in all his years, even the human ones, had he ever thought he would fall for a pure, innocent nineteen year old. He had always figured himself with someone more like Darla. Experienced, bold, someone who'd been around the board a couple of times. Someone who knew all the tricks in the book. However, he never knew there was someone out there so beautiful, inside and out, so perfect.

Buffy looked up at Angel. His eyes were closed and, despite the tranquil expression, looked deep in thought. Her hand left his chest and moved upward to trace the planes of his face. His eyes, his cheekbones, his nose, and lastly his soft lips. She smiled when he kissed her fingertips. His eyes fluttered open and stared into hers. His gaze was so intense that Buffy felt a flush creeping up her neck and she had to look away.

Angel slipped his arms around her and held her tiny body to his tightly. Her scent was intoxicating, a drug. It didn't hurt him, but it was addicting. Everything about her was addicting. He buried his nose in the crown of her hair and inhaled. He felt her slender arms snake around his waist.

"I love you," he heard her murmur softly.

"I love you, too, Buffy. More than you could ever comprehend."

"I can try."

"Don't try," he said. "It takes all the fun out of it."

Buffy looked up at him, eyes wide. "Did you just make a joke? You joked! Alert the media," she called out to nobody imparticular. "Angel just made a joke!"

He laughed and rolled ontop of her, lifting her hands above her head and holding them there.

"I joke."

"Was that another one?"

"No." He kissed her quickly. "I think I've been spending too much time with you and Cordy, though. I'm beginning to joke."

"Now, I know _that_ was a joke."

"True. No such thing as too much time with you."

"Glad to hear it. Did Cordelia and Doyle go home?"

"Pretty sure. They know not to hang around for too long when I haven't seen you in two weeks."

Buffy giggled. "Cordy needs to find a boyfriend..."

"She doesn't have luck with men," Angel said, still pinning her down. "They tend to end up losers."

"Ah... Can we stop talking about Cordelia and her loser men now? It's ruining the mood."

"Sorry," he said and kissed her neck.

No more words were needed.

* * * * * *

Angel held Buffy against him hours later, her tiny back pressed against his chest. He listened to the soothing sound of her breathing and smoothed back her hair. He was tired, incredibly tired, but couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. He had to stay awake to watch over her. He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder and rested his head beside hers on his pillow.

Buffy was extremely warm, hot even. The heat rolled off of her in waves almost. Years ago, this would have drove him insane. Heat meant a heart beat, a heartbeat meant flowing blood, and flowing blood meant... But not any more. Now, her heat made him feel safe, content. He felt her sigh and smiled. She loved him so much, it was crazy. Nobody had ever loved him before. Not even Darla. She had simply...lusted after him. This was a completely new experience for him. Loving and being loved. He now understood why everyone wanted it so badly. It was amazing, this feeling.

Angel also understood what he and Buffy shared was unnatural. Not many people, no matter how in love, had what they did. They were truly the other's missing half.

He gently tucked her head under his chin and closed his eyes. He didn't breathe, he didn't think, just felt. Felt the way her body fit perfectly, flawlessly, against his. Felt the way her breath stirred her hair, which tickled his nose. Felt the way her heart beat slowly, yet strongly, in her chest. Felt the reaction her moaning his name in her sleep caused in him. Finally, he nuzzled her neck and let the tip of his nose rest just below her ear, where her pulse was. There was something in life that he wouldn't trade for anything. Not being able to walk in the sun, nothing. This miraculous event was one of them.

Eventually, Angel was claimed by sleep, and he and Buffy both slept peacefully with smiles on their lips. There had never been another two people in the world like them, and there never would be. Angel was right. Their love was unnatural. They weren't two bodies, and two souls, they were two entities, and one soul. When he was cursed with his soul, Angel was given only a piece of something. Something larger. When Buffy was born, she was given a piece of something. Something larger, as well. Angel was given the darker half, and Buffy the lighter, more carefree half. Together they were one. One soul. They melded together seamlessly when they were with each other. That was a rare, once in a lifetime sort of deal. No two other people would ever share what they did. They were truly blessed.

Buffy awoke slowly the nex morning and ran a hand through her tatted hair. She sat up and looked around the bedroom. Empty.

"Angel?" she called out softly. No answer.

She slowly, cautiously got up and walked out of the room, running her hands over her bare arms. She found him sitting on his couch reading. _Such a creature of habit_, she thought.

"Hi," she said and put her arms around his neck from behind. "Whatcha reading?"

"Nothing that would interest you," said Angel as he sat the book beside him.

"What do we have planned for today?" she asked, coming around to sit on his lap.

"Not much," he told her. "Not as long as the sun's up."

She smiled and kissed the base of his throat. "I'm sure we can find something to keep ourselves occupied."

He nodded in agreement.

"Are the guys coming in to work today?" she asked him.

"Probably not. It's Saturday, and Cordelia likes to pamper herself as much as possible inbetween killing demons."

"Hey, I know from expierience that it's hard to look pretty and kill ugly things at the same time. Let her do her spa day."

"I do. As long as no ugly things that need killing pop up, she gets every Saturday to herself."

Buffy smiled and comfortable silence fell between them once again.

"Do you have any food here?" she finally asked.

"Yeah. Are you hungry?"

"A little," she said.

Angel stood up and pulled her with him. "Come on. I'll make you breakfast."

* * * * * *

Deep in the Santiago mines of Los Angeles, a tinking noise could be heard.

"Have you found it yet, Victor?" A tall, red haired woman asked, looking up from the nail she was carefully filing.

"Not yet, Maurice, be patient. We'll have it soon enough."

"Good," she said, smoothing her hair down. "Because the moisture down here is making me friz. Plus, I heard there's a special detective agency in town that specializes in weird occurrences."

"Oh yeah?" Victor asked, stepping back from the rock he was chipping away at and wiping his forehead on a discarded tee shirt. "Where'd you hear that?"

"From Samantha."

"Maur, how many times do I have to tell you? Your sister's trouble."

"But the good kind," she replied. "Ever since Ronald's death, she's been keeping her ear to the ground, listening for any word on this mysterious 'Angel Investigations'. And guess who she tells all the gossip to!"

Victor rolled his eyes. "You."

"Exactly."

"So why don't you actually _find_ Angel Investigations and deter them for a little while. Just so we have enough time to get it, and get out of here."

Maurice put a delicate finger to her chin in a thoughtful gesture. "You know, that just may work."

"Glad to help," he grunted as he picked up his pick axe. "Now go find 'em, so I can get back to work."

* * * * * *

Hours later, Angel was sprawled out on the couch with Buffy laying content in his arms. She sighed happily as he began running his fingers through her golden hair. She looked up at him and smiled at the look of adoration in his eyes.

"So beautiful," he murmured and bent his head down to hers.

They hadn't gotten very far into the kiss, when they were interrupted by someone knocking on the office door.

Buffy groaned when he pulled away, and said, "Can we just, you know, pretend like we didn't hear it?"

As much as the idea was tempting Angel, to forget someone in need and stay in their happy little bubble of peace and romance, he couldn't.

"We have to at least see what they want," He told her and sat up.

She took on a pouty face, but when he gently and quickly kissed her one more time, she couldn't stay mad.

"Fine, fine. We'll go see what they want, but tonight's mine."

"Deal," he said and together they climbed the stairs.

Neither of them expected to see a tall, redheaded woman in a tailored skirt-suit sobbing in front of them.

Buffy immediately rushed up to her, previous arguments forgotten, and asked, "Hey, hey. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Here," said Angel, taking her by the elbow. "Why don't you have a seat?"

He helped her sit down on the small couch, then he sat on the coffee table in front of her, and Buffy stood behind him with her hands on his shoulders.

The redheaded woman wiped her eyes with a tissue Buffy had given her and sat up straighter. "I-I heard you were a detective agency."

"That's right," Angel said. "We are."

"Yeah, well, I've got a problem."

"Like what? Hey, it'll be okay," Buffy said soothingly.

"He's dead."

The Slayer's eyes grew large. "Who? Who's dead?"

"Phil, my fiance`. I-I came home today and he was just laying there on the couch. I thought he was sleeping, so I went to wake him up...he didn't wake up."

"And you didn't call the police?" Angel asked. "Don't you think they could help you?"

"They couldn't help," she sniffled. "When I went to wake him up, I noticed marks."

"What kind of marks?" Inquired Buffy.

"Teeth marks. Like a-an animal attacked him. And the house, it smelled funny when I walked in. Of course, I just figured Phil was trying a new Asian recipe, he does that. But, I realize now that it wasn't a new dish. It was something else. Something _inhuman_," she whispered the last part as she leaned forward. "And I heard you dealt with...unnatural things like this."

The vampire and his girl shared a quick glance.

"We do...um, I'm sorry, what's your name?" Angel asked.

"Maurice."

"Maurice. Okay, Maurice, we're going to find out what killed your fiance. Is he still at your house?"

"Yes."

"Can you take us there?"

"My car's out front."

Maurice's home was a nice little cottage right on the outskirts of town. Just a simple two-story home with a one car garage and a dead body. When they walked in, Angel immediately realized that she'd been right, it _did_smell funny, and whatever had killed Phil was definitely _not_ human. Buffy had to grip Angel's hand and lean against him when they saw Phil. There weren't just _marks_, there were _gashes_. He had not just been killed, or murdered, he had been mauled.

"Oh...oh my...I'm so...so sorry," Buffy managed to gasp out. Then she straightened up and exchanged her 'Buffy Summers-Regular College Girl' face for her 'Buffy Summers-Slayer' face.

"Did you see anything unusual when you came home?" Angel asked.

"Other than my fiance` lying dead on our couch, you mean? No, nothing out of the ordinary."

"I'm sorry. I..." he trailed off, not sure of what to say. Finally, he turned to Buffy. "Check out the top floor?"

"On it, boss," she joked.

"I'm coming with you. If this thing is still in the house, I don't want you facing it alone."

She smiled at his concern. "Okay."

Maurice watched as the two made their way up the stairs, and then picked up her cell phone.

"Victor? It's Maurice...yeah...yeah...their out of the...no, I don't care how well Santiago Mines' cell reception is...Angel, the Angel Investigations guy, and his girlfriend are out of the way for now...no...didn't take much...okay...okay...bye."

She quickly snapped her phone shut and began pacing nervously. _Look like the concerned girlfriend. Fiance`. Whatever. Don't let them onto you_, she told herself.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Buffy and Angel carefully searched through the master bedroom.

"Huh, this is weird," she called from the closet.

"What?" Angel asked coming up from behind her.

"What size would you say Maurice is?"

"I don't know, Buffy. A seven?"

"Seven? Jeez, Angel. Then you must think I'm, like, a ten." She snorted. "Whatever. Try a _zero_. She's the skinniest person I've ever met! And I'm a two, by the way."

"What's the big deal?"

"Look at her clothes. There's fives in here. Unless she did a whole lot of Weight Watchers and forgot to throw out her old clothes, these aren't hers. Plus, there's not a pair of heels in here! And she's got to have money. You can tell by the way she dresses. So why do all her clothes vibe 'Good Will'?"

"Her clothes vibe?"

"It's a girl thing. Don't question it."

He nodded. "Maybe they're a friends."

"She'd be an awful good friend to give up all this closet space for her friend's clothes."

"So? Are you getting to a point?"

"My _point_ is, these _aren't_ hers!"

Finally, Angel caught on. "So you're saying..."

"This isn't her house."

"Then why is Phil, her fiance`, dead on the couch?"

"I don't know. And truthfully, I don't think we should confess we know something just yet. I want to see what game she's playing."

He kissed the top of Buffy's head and smiled.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. Just proud, I guess. You hopped into the detective thing better than I thought you would."

"Hey!" she defended. "Just because I'm the Slayer, and am better at slicing and dicing rather than hunting out clues, doesn't mean I _can't_. My Hellmouth demons take some sleuth work, too, you know."

"I know," he said, then realized they were getting off topic. "We should go back downstairs so Maurice doesn't get antsy. And so that thing that killed Phil doesn't come back for her."

"Okay," she agreed.

"Did you find anything?" Maurice asked anxiously when she saw them.

After a quick, meaningful glance to Angel, Buffy said, "No. I'm sorry. Whatever it was seems to just have left after it...it...killed Phil."

Maurice let out a defeated breath and hung her head. "I guess I'll get a hotel room tonight. I don't want to be here with..."

"I understand," Angel said. "There's a really nice one out past the high way. The Bakers Inn, I believe. It's a nice little bed and breakfast."

"Thank you. I'll remember that."

A few more 'sorry's were shared, before the three went on their separate ways, Maurice to the mines, and Buffy and Angel to his apartment.

* * * * * *

Much later that night, after a long, hot bubble bath, Buffy stood in front of a foggy mirror combing her hair, wrapped in one of Angel's silky robes.

"So what do you think's up with Maurice?" she asked Angel, who was leaning against the door frame.

"I'm not sure. I'm also not sure if there _is_ anything up with her."

"But the clothes! I say again, they _weren't_ hers!"

"Maybe she was still moving in with him, and those were his ex-girlfriend's. Or maybe she's like us, two apartments. Maybe all her clothes are at her other one, like most of yours are in Sunnydale. I mean, other than the stuff you brought with you, you don't have any stuff here, do you?"

"No, but I have an excuse. This is the first time I've ever been here."

"How do you know it's not the same with her?"

Angel walked over to her, looped his arms around her waist, and pulled her up onto the counter so they were eye level.

"Look," he said. "You're probably right, you almost always are, and I'm not trying to argue with your Slayer senses, but just give Maurice a chance, okay? Then, if she _does_ turn out to be a crook, you can rub it in my face all you want, but just _please_ give her a chance."

He looked at her, his brown eyes wide and bright, full of emotion.

She chewed on her lip for a moment, before sighing. "You know I can never disagree with you when you look at me like that. Fine, fine. I'll give her a chance."

"Thank you," he said.

"But," Buffy said, a warning, yet playful, edge to her voice. "You owe me."

"Oh, I think we can work something out," he murmured before his lips captured hers.

* * * * * *

"Have you gotten it yet?" Maurice asked, looking up from the latest issue of _Glamor_.

"No. Say, how'd everything go with the Angel Investigations people?" Victor asked.

"I told you, they won't be bothering us for a while."

"What did you have to do?"

"Kill a man."

He raised his eyebrows in amazement. "Nice."

"I know. And just think, after we get this, nobody will be able to stand in our way!"

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N: **I really wish I could have some 'Duhn, Duhn, Duuuuuhn' music after that last line! Anyway, review please!

Also, check out my forum, 'Gealach Gorm'. I'll be posting some info on the series there!


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** The Token

**Author:** Jude (Sk8erGurl24)

**Disclaimer:**Does it look like I own anything? No? Good. 'Cause I don't... The Santiago Mines are not real mines, I made them up because I wanted mines, couldn't find much on Google, and like the name Santiago...

**Summary:**When two outlaws come to town looking for a mystical gem with special powers, it's up to Buffy, Angel, and the rest of the gang to stop them. Third book in my Gealach Gorm series! BA, WO, XA

**Note:**Whoo! I got loads of positive feedback on the second book, When the Sun Falls! Actually, I got _more_ feedback than I've ever gotten on _any_ story. Thanks guys! You really rock. Anyway, this is the third book and I have some worries (I know I said that on the second book, but these are different). I've found this thing called 'The Curse of the Three'. Basically, the third book/movie of everything sucks. X-Men 3 was awful (my opinion), Spider-Man 3 was awful (my opinion), Buffy Season 3 wasn't _as good_ as the first two (my opinion), the third Twilight book (no, I'm not a fan, but was at one point and time) was awful (my opinion), Rocky 3 wasn't as good as the first two (my mom's opinion). Do you see where I'm going? Silly, I know. But anyway. Cross your fingers and hope it's good. On with the story!

* * * * * *

Bright and early Sunday morning, Cordelia and Doyle were in the office, being filled in by Buffy and Angel.

"He was dead? On their couch? Was it a mess? 'Cause I'm telling you, if there was a mess, she should just sell the house and move to Missouri. Blood and guts stains take _forever_ to get out," Cordelia said, fluttering her hands in the air.

Buffy stared at her for a moment, then said in a flat voice, "Yeah, Cordy. She's so concerned about the stains, she barely even realized her dead fiance`."

Cordelia blushed. "Oh. Sorry."

"Anyway," Angel said. "We need to find out what or who killed Phil."

"Okay. What do we got? Bite marks? Claw marks?" Doyle asked.

"No marks, more like mutilation," said Buffy.

Cordelia scrunched up her nose. "Ew."

"Tell me about it," the Slayer replied.

"Also, it smelled...peculiar," Angel said. "Whatever killed him wasn't human."

"So, we thinkin' demon?"  
"Most likely."

"And the clothes in the closet? Way too big to fit Maurice," Buffy said.

Angel rolled his eyes. "Buffy, we've been over this. You don't know whose they were, or why they were there. Remember?"

"I said I'd give her a chance. Never said it was gonna be a clean slate."

"Buffy--"

She held up her hand to silence his arguments. "Uh bup bup! Shush!"

Doyle grinned at the couple. "If ya two lovebirds are done, we got some Phil-killin' demons to be lookin' for."

"Could you take us back to her house?" Cordelia asked.

"Sure," Buffy said, then turned to Angel. "I'll take them. Too dangerous for you to be out with the sun and all."

"Are you sure? We could take the--"

"Sewers? No thanks. You never know, her house, if it ­_is_ her house, may have huge picture windows uncovered that we didn't see last night. And I'd much prefer you not resembling a campfire."

She got up and headed down to his apartment.

"Weapon," she called over her shoulder, then, "Angel? Where do you keep your weapons?"

The vampire then preceded to follow her down the stairs.

"Here," he said and opened up a large chest. "What do you think you'll need?"

"Something small," She said, scanning the weapons. "Deadlier than a stake, but more portable than a broadsword."

"What about this?" He handed her a ten-inch dagger with a sharp point at the end of the glistening silver blade and a bone handle.

"Perfect," Buffy said and took it from him. Then she grabbed one of his holsters and secured it around her calf before sliding the dagger in. She pulled her pant leg back down and stood up.

"I'll call you if something big goes down, but I doubt anything will. Most demons don't like attacking in daylight, unless provoked."

"You being in the house might provoke it."

She gave him a 'Puh-Lease' look. "Angel, why would it be in the house anyway? You know what, don't answer that, you'd come up with something strange that would actually be true. Just kiss me goodbye."

"I can do that," he said and bent his head down to hers.

A moment later, she stumbled backwards. "I didn't mean like _that_. I'll never get out of here if you continue to do that!"

"Sorry."

"Yeah, well, considering all the other things you can find to say sorry about, that's not the worst."

Angel gave her one more quick kiss on the forehead, then said, "Go."

"Gone."

"Ya ready now?" Doyle asked when she came back up.

"Yup. Let's get this demon show on the road."

* * * * * *

"So this is Phil?" Cordelia asked, half gagging.

"Yeah. This is Phil."

"Kinda gruesome. Shouldn't we at least call the police or the coroners?" asked Doyle.

"We'll get around to that. But the thing is, we'd have to explain _why_ he looked like this and _what_ did it. Two things we have absolutely _no_ idea about."

"True," Cordelia agreed.

"I'm going to check out the body. Didn't get a chance to yesterday."

Buffy knelt beside Phil's carcass. It was horrible, what had happened to this poor man. Half his face was missing, and the other half was badly damaged. The rest of his body was unrecognisable; a bloody mess on the couch. One thing caught her eye, however. She pulled her dagger from it's sheath and used the very tip to extract something shiny from his arm. It was an orangish-red scale. They had a clue!

"Check this out," She said, standing and whirling around, dagger held high.

"Ew," Cordelia said. "What is it?"

"A scale," she said matter-of-factly.

"So a fish demon killed him?" asked Doyle.

The Slayer rolled her eyes. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Not long enough to get the fancy knives, apparently."

"Obviously. Just because it's a scale doesn't mean something aquatic killed him. Lots of demons have scales."

"True."

Buffy stood still for a moment. "Something strange's going on here...I just don't know what."

"Yeah. Especially considering that the door was standing wide open," said Cordelia.

"You're right. It was open when Maurice brought us here yesterday, but I just figured it was because the demon broke in." She walked to the door. "But there's no signs of forced entry. Plus, Maurice never locked the door when we left. Almost like..."

"She didn't have a key," Doyle finished for her.

"Exactly. And, let's say she did, why wouldn't she lock her door? Especially if her fiance` was laying dead on the couch. Not to mention, murdered in her home. Wouldn't she be afraid the murderer would come back?"

"If she was sane she would," Cordelia put in.

"Right. So why didn't she?"

"Afraid?"

"Worried?"

"Guilty," Buffy said.

"Guilty? Buff, ya heard what Angel said. Clean slate, right? Don't go jumpin' to conclusions," Doyle said.

"I'm not jumping! I'm jump-free. I'm just...hopping... Okay, okay! Fine! Benefit of the doubt or whatever. But just this once!"

The Irish man nodded. "So now what?"

"Now we...check out the rest of the house that Angel and I didn't get to last night."

The three parted, Buffy to the kitchen, Cordelia to the home office, and Doyle to the bathroom.

The kitchen was average-sized, with a shiny silver refrigerator, a tiny grey island in the center, a white stove, and green counter tops. Even though nothing matched, it was somehow still nice and...homey. She allowed her fingers to skim the tops of various items as she walked around the room. She peered into the sink and found nothing out of the ordinary; a glass, a fork, and a Brillo pad. Same with the stove, nothing but a few grease spots. She opened the cupboards cautiously, as if she were afraid something was going to jump out at her. But once more, she found nothing unusual. Unless extremely clean, spotless china was unusual. Then she looked through the cabinet below the sink, but only found Jet Dry and extra Brillo pads.

Doyle wasn't having much better luck in the bathroom. It was, like the kitchen, pretty much spotless. The tub, which was a claw tub, was pearly white and literally sparkled. The blood red curtain was void of any water spots or wetness. Doyle opened the tiny medicine cabinet that hung above the mirror, and was surprised at the lack of pill bottles strewn about. Everything was in nice, neat rows, from the lotion down to the floss. Huffing slightly, he shut the cabinet quickly.

Cordelia opened another file and rested her chin in her hand, preparing for the boredom of another tax refund folder. These people were like the citizens of the year. Suddenly, she was reminded of Ted, the robot who dated and tried to kill Buffy's mother in their junior year. She remembered how hard it was to find some dirt on him. This was the same situation. They had no enemies, no debt. No logical reason why someone would want to murder Phil. But then again, Cordelia reminded herself, if it _was_a demon, they didn't always need a reason. Angrily, she shut another folder and shoved it back into an over-stuffed drawer. She spun around in the desk chair she was now occupying to examine the shelves behind her. Random pictures were scattered here and there, but one caught her eye. She picked it up and examined it closer. It was a wedding picture in a nice silver frame. The two people were smiling happily in their wedding clothes. All of that was fine and dandy, but what peaked Cordelia's interest was the people. The groom was Phil, as she suspected, by the bride definitely _wasn't_ Maurice.

"Buffy! Doyle! Guys! Get in here!" she called out.

As if on cue, both people rushed in the room at the same time.

"Cordy, what is it?"

"Yeah. What's wrong?" Doyle asked.

"This." Cordelia handed the photo to Buffy and Doyle looked over her shoulder.

"Ha! Look at her," Buffy said, indicating the bride. "Definitely _not_ a zero!"

"Yeah, yeah. You can celebrate your victory later. We need to get this back to Angel and find out who she is," the half-demon said.

She nodded in agreement. "Alright."

* * * * * *

"This isn't Maurice," Angel said. He sat at his desk, bent over the photo his friends had brought back.

"See? What'd I tell you? The clothes aren't hers." Buffy smiled smugly from her place behind her boyfriend.

"I should have listened to you," he said, leaning his head back against his chair and closing his eyes.

"When will you learn that Slayer knows best?"

He ignored her remark. "Now we have to figure out who she is."

"I guess asking Phil's kinda out of the question..."

"Definately," Angel's eyes opened suddenly. "But maybe some of the neighbors might know."

"Yeah. Even if they were new, _somebody_ would know her name."

"_Especially_ if they were new," he corrected. "Everyone would be playing the nosey-neighbor bit trying to find out who they were."

"So we start questioning tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Buffy, it's only seven. We've still got lots of time before people start shutting down for the evening." At her odd look, he added, "We're in LA. Nobody goes to bed early here."

"I know, silly," She said, coming around to sit in his lap. "But you see, Cordelia's out grocery shopping, or whatever it is she does, and Doyle's seeing what he can stir up from seedy bars." She turned, straddling his hips so she could look him in the eye. "Which means, we've got this entire place all to our lonesome."

She touched the tip of her nose to his.

"I like the way you think," Angel said.

Buffy simply grinned and captured his lips with her own. His hands traveled around her waist to the small of her back and he pulled her closer. Her slender fingers rested at the nape of his neck and played with the soft hairs they found there. All thoughts of Maurice, Phil, and the mystery bride were quickly discarded as they became more and more wrapped up in each other. For now, the world could wait.

Hours later, around midnight, Buffy lay in Angel's bed while the aforementioned vampire dozed lightly beside her. She sighed contently and gazed at her boyfriend. He looked so peaceful. She tried to imagine what her life would be like without him, and she shuddered at the thought. She probably would have ended up with the All-American farm boy, Riley. Then she giggled softly. What an odd couple they would have made.

Angel opened his eyes drowsily at the sound of laughter.

"What?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing. Go back to sleep." She leaned down and kissed his forehead.

He mumbled something incoherently before pulling Buffy firmly beside him. She let out a small squeal of delight at the unexpected gesture. Angel smiled as she lay her head against his chest and pulled the blankets tighter around them.

As she drew invisible patterns on his chest, she murmured, "I love you."

Angel grinned in the muted light of the bedroom. "I love you, too."

She stretched her arm across his stomach and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I never get tired of hearing that."

"Good."

Buffy groaned. "Why did Maurice and Phil and all their stupid havoc have to happen _this _weekend? I just wanted to stay here like this, all nice and comfy in bed with you, until I had to go back to Sunnydale. But now we've got demons to find, people to identify, and neighbors to interrogate."

Angel nodded his agreement. "Mm-hmm. I can think of way better things to do with you than demon hunting."

"Story of our lives, though, right? Horrible demon timing."

"Yeah."

There was silence for a little while, until he asked, "How long are you going to be here?"

"Apparently longer than I'd planned. Can't just leave you here all alone, well, semi-alone, to figure this whole thing out."

"Are you making excuses to stay?" He smiled good naturedly.

"Maaaybe..." She said girlishly. "But hey. It's not like we get to see each other every day."

"True. And besides, I'm sure there's nothing so big going on that Sunnydale really needs you."

Buffy grinned, it was her turn. "Are you making excuses for me to stay?"

"Maybe."

She tilted her head upward so she could kiss him softly. When they pulled away, she asked, "How much longer until we have to drag ourselves outta bed and go interrogate nosey neighbors?"

Angel glanced at the clock. "Few hours. Nobody's probably home from the bars yet."

"Yay." Buffy snuggled down deeper into the warm sheets, and Angel. "So sleepy," she mumbled and let out a tiny yawn.

He gently kissed her forehead. "Rest. You've got awhile."

"Wake me up when it's time to question neighbors?"

"Okay."

They both fell quiet for a few minutes, before, "Angel?"

"Hmmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, beautiful. Now, get some sleep."

He tightened his grip around her and rested his head against hers, while Buffy fell asleep to the silence in his chest.

* * * * * *

"What's appropriate for questioning neighbors on who lives beside them?" Buffy called to Angel.

She had just taken a shower and was wrapped in a large fluffy towel, pouring over her open suitcase. It was almost noon, and the two were almost ready to head out.

"I don't know. Make sure it's something sewer-accessable."

"Oh right. The suns up. Okay. That cuts out this..." She flung a knee length skirt to the side. "...and this..." High-heeled boots followed the skirt. "...and this..." Thin-strapped tank top. "...and...oh! This'll work!"

A few minutes later, she emerged from the bedroom in form fitting blue jeans, a cap-sleeved lime green tee-shirt, and her favorite pair of Reeboks. Her hair was simply done in a pony tail. She did a little mock twirl for Angel, who was seated on the couch.

"Amazing."

She curtsied, the best she could, and laughed. "Thanks."

"Ready?"

"Yup. Where's your magic portal to sewers?"

"Over here."

He opened up the trap door.

"Ladies first?" She asked.

"Sure."

She jumped down in through the open hole and was thankful to find that it was a dry part of the sewer. Stinky, but at least dry. She took a few steps out of the way and called up, "Alright."

A second later, Angel jumped through the hole, his coat swishing up behind him, and landed like a cat.

"Bravo. Now, how do we know where we're going?"

"I just do."

"Ah. Vampy instincts, is it?"

"Something like that."

The Slayer smiled and linked her fingers through his.

Minutes later, the two were standing on the very shady porch of one of Phil's neighbor's homes. Buffy rang the doorbell and waited.

"Hello?" A cranky-sounding old lady said, peering through her screen door. "Who are you?"

"I'm Buffy Summers, and this is Angel. Uh, may I ask what your name is?"

"You come knocking on my door and don't know what my name is? Who are you? Girl Scouts? No. No, you're much, much to old for that. Social Services? No. No, I don't have any children living at home. Oh I know! Betty's Cake Emporium! Honestly, ma'am, I didn't mean to hit that woman with my purse, but she was going for the last cake pan and I had to--"

"No. We're not from, uh, Betty's Cake Emporium," said Angel awkwardly.

"Oh. Then who are you?" The grey-haired lady in a pink nightgown pushed her thick glasses further up her nose.

"I _told_ you. I'm Buffy Summers, and this is Angel."

"Where are you from?"

"Angel Investigations. It's a detective agency. Here's my card." Angel held out a crisp white piece of paper, and the old woman hesitantly opened the screen door to take it. Then she proceeded to slam the door shut once the card was in her hand.

"What's that? A lobster?"

Buffy raised her eyebrows at him and mouthed 'Lobster?'. He just gave her a sour look.

"No, it's an Angel. See?"

"Oh. Yeah. Guess so. What do you want with me?"

"A name would be nice," Buffy commented.

"Joesephine Tanner. Happy now, missy?"

"Yes, Ms. Tanner."

"Oh please. Call me Josy, everyone does. It's hipper."

"Uh, alright...Josy."

"Now. What do you want?"

"We were wondering if we could come in and--" Josy cut Buffy off.

"Absolutely not. You ask what you've got and you ask it here."

"A-alright. Uh, how long has Phil lived next door to you?"

"Phil?"

"Yeah, Phil. Lives right beside you? That house right there?" Buffy pointed. "Tall? Ringing _any_ bells at all?"

"Oh! You mean Phillip!"

"Phil. Phillip. Same diff. And yes. How long's he lived there?"

"About four monthes. Why?"

"Ms. Ta--uh, Josy, he was found dead several days ago."

"Dead? What sort of dead?"

Buffy gave the peculiar old woman an equally peculiar look. What _sort _of dead? How many types of dead were there? Someone was either dead, or they weren't. There wasn't an in-between.

"_Dead_ dead. Like _eviscerated_ dead."

The tiny, grey-haired woman gasped. "Oh my."

Angel took over and said, "Yes. Now do you see why we're here?" She nodded. "Good. Now I was wondering, was Phil...lip married?"

"Oh yes. To a beautiful young woman with long blond hair. Tarie...Tinie...Tina! That's it! She was kind of round...but very nice. And oh! Did she make the best blueberry muffins you ever did taste! Yessir. They were fluffy and not at all dry and--"

"Uh, yeah. Bet those muffins were a dandy. Did they seem happy? Phillip and Tina, did they seem like they were getting along fine?"

"Yes, yes. They were newly weds, you see. What newly weds don't enjoy bein' with each other and don't get along good? I remember when Jakob, that's my husband, by the way, and I were married. It was so beautiful. Birds and flowers and rice. Oh, it was like a fairy tale, and--"

"Love to hear all about it sometime. Did Phillip ever go places in the middle of the night? And possibly look like he was sneaking out?"  
"I don't know. I'm in bed by ten o'clock sharp. If he went anywhere, it would have to be before nine fifty-nine."

"Uh-huh. Did anyone ever come to his house at odd times? Anyone shady-looking?"

"No. The only people that ever came to their house were their friends, family, UPS, and the Jehova Witnesses."

"Not shady enough...Or maybe too shady and way too obvious..." Buffy muttered to herself.

"Thank you, Josy. We'll let you know what we find," Angel told her.

"Oh, goodness, thank you!"

"Have a nice day," The Slayer said.

"You, too! Buh-bye," she said and closed the door.

* * * * * *

The remainder of the day was spent dodging sunlight by running under trees to get to the next porch. It was almost five o'clock when the two finally arrived back at the office. Cordelia and Doyle were waiting for them.

"Hey!" Cordelia shrieked. "Where were you?"

"Oh, sorry," said Buffy. "I guess we forgot to tell you. We went out to question Phil's neighbors about him. The most helpful thing we got was that his wife's a chubby blond girl named Tina."

"So...not Maurice?" Doyle asked.

"No."

"So where does that leave us?"

Buffy looked around her. "Hmm...I believe this is square one."

"Not completely," Angel spoke up. "At least we know his wife's name. He _real_ wife's name. Now we just have to find Tina...what did that friendly old man say their last name was?"

"Gibbs," Buffy filled in.

"Right. We have to find Tina Gibbs."

"Oh," Buffy said. "And maybe call the coroners. Phil's going to get stinky soon."

"True," Doyle agreed with a nod.

Angel glanced at his girlfriend. He hadn't thought of that. "So where do we start?"

"I could call Willow," Buffy proposed. "And have her run a scan for anyone in the area with the name Tina Gibbs, or anything related."

"That would work. Get right on it?"

"Sure thing."

The Slayer hopped up and headed for the phone.

After several rings, Willow picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey. It's me."

"Buffy! How are things in good ol' Los Angeles?"

"We've got a mutilated man named Phil, strange neighbors, and a woman who isn't who she says she is."

"Oh," was all she said.

"Yeah. Listen, Will, do you think you can go on the net and she what you can find about a woman named Tina Gibbs, or anyone with similar names, in the area?"

"Piece of cake. Is she the woman who isn't who she says she is?"

"No. She's the woman who's missing and another woman says she's her but she's not. It's confusing. Just...run the search. Please?"

"Sure. Are you ever going to tell me why?"

"Of course. Later. Just call me back when you have the stuff, alright?"

"Alright."

"Bye."

"Bye, Buffy. Be careful."

"Always."

She hung up the phone and turned back to Angel and his friends. "She said she'll do it and call us when she finds something."

"Great," Cordelia said. "Now what do we do?"

"Uh...coroners?"

Angel shook his head. "Which leads to police, which leads to questioning. And we can't deal with that right now."

"What about Kate? You could ask her," suggested Cordelia.

"Kate?" Buffy asked. "Who's Kate? I don't know Kate."

"Jealous, are we?" Doyle asked, amusement in his voice.

"No!" she defended herself, then glanced to Angel, who was smirking. "Maybe. But just a little!"

"Kate's a detective who's helped on several cases," Angel said, and that seemed to satisfy her. "But we're not calling her. There's been too much trouble with her already."

"Trouble?" asked Buffy.

"Yeah. She found out he was a vampire, got real angry. It was this whole big thing," Cordelia supplied.

She nodded and sat down on the couch beside Angel.

"Now what?" he asked, giving her hand a little squeeze.

"Now we wait."

* * * * * *

Deep within the Santiago Mines, the tinking sound that had been going on for days, ended, and a victorious cry rung out.

"Maurice! I've found it! We have it!" And Victor emerged, holding up his prize; a solid gold amulet with an angry red stone in the center.

"It's about time," Maurice said. "It's about time..."

**To Be Continued...**

**A/N:**Well, that only took, like, three monthes to finish, but I did it!!! Now that school's out and I'm on vacation, I should be able to start cranking out the chapters & stuff quicker! Review, review, review!!!!


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